


love/lifecycle

by magdalenafemme



Category: Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Poetry, lesbian poetry, love poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:27:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalenafemme/pseuds/magdalenafemme
Summary: a series of ten poems about the life, death, and rebirth of love.





	1. i love her like i have loved her before (what is time to a love like this?)

this love feels like roots in my heart

like an oak

like something so much older than us

and her hands

are like a long lost home

familiar and safe

she knows me like a second nature

something just out of reach

a hum of remembrance

"you know her, you know her, you know her"

and in harmony, my soul sings

"you love her, you love her, you love her"

and this ache, soft and low

whispers,

"she loves you too"

and this pain, sharp and comforting

caresses, and says,

"just not in this life"

- _i love her like i have loved her before (what is time to a love like this?)_


	2. don't see us as a tragedy (see us as a love story)

if you cannot picture the end

go back to the middle

go back to a summer in love

and see us in a river

see us carve our names

into something

so much older than us

see us bleed into each other

like water

like love

see our bodies in tune

see us play a song

and when the muses sing of this

they will sing of first love

and if

you cannot see it broken

see us as a promise

if you cannot bear to see me hit the ground

i understand

go back

see me love her

see me fall

- _don't see us as a tragedy (see us as a love story)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to discuss my poems, follow my poetry tumblr at https://magdalenafemme.tumblr.com/


	3. lies i tell myself (i don't love her, i don't love her, i don't love her)

and i can tell lies

till they are sweet on my tongue 

i get it from my father

like all gifts from him

poisonous

(hint: that's a lie)

but when she asks me

did you like her?

and her eyes are so full of light

acid rises in my throat

i thank god i'm out of sight

because i am answerless

and my eyes are full of smight

and i repeat it in my mind

like a mantra, like a quote

and yes it is a lie

but that's nothing new

(as hard as i may try, i coud never lie to you)

so please,

don't ask me if i love her

i'd have to say it's true

- _lies i tell myself (i don't love her, i don't love her, i don't love her)_


	4. there is god in this love (if she takes sides, she is not on mine)

there is a light in her eyes i can't explain

i don't know if anyone else sees it

but i know it's not for me

like divinity, it is her's to wield 

and i see it at night

when all my candles blow out

and the only light is her

and in cold mornings

when she is asleep and i, 

i am looking at her like some divine force

and i think i might die from the ache of it

sometimes i wonder

if by some grace of god

(by some grace of her) 

she would bring me back

and on days 

where i am pounding my fists into the old piano

till my hands are broken and bloodied

i cannot get the notes to play loud enough

i cannot get them to feel like wholeness

like love

and the hours lying in bed

staring at the ceiling

and i am reaching, reaching, reaching

for her to hold my hands so strong and loose

to feel belonging like a questioning faith

to feel something holy in her touch

and the nights where i am on my knees

on the wooden floors pleading (bleeding)

" _please_ " i cry out 

as the tears mix with sawdust

and a thousand splinters cannot be worse than this

" _let me love her, or let me breathe again_ "

- _there is god in this love (if she takes sides, she is not on mine)_


	5. tell me it was a vision unfulfilled (but tell me it was possible)

if you tell me anything

tell me it was an almost

tell me it was right in my grasp

and that all i had to do was reach

tell me i was a coward

that i could've had it if i'd tried

and maybe 

(if you think it's true)

(tell me you could've loved me too)

(just don't tell me i imagined it)

- _tell me it was a vision unfulfilled (but tell me it was possible)_


	6. i love you like a garden (i give you everything and you still die)

and when everything is wilted

when all is dead and done

you have buried my heart in the garden

it will not see the sun

and the omens grow among the flowers

i pick none

and the memories are gravedirt

of all the poems still buried in my lungs

- _i love you like a garden (i give you everything and you still die)_


	7. i don't know how to love you without unraveling

and i know poetry comes from pain

but sometimes it just feels like pain

and i stare at a page and try

to describe this feeling

as something meant for words

rather than my chest

and i can feel

my tears burning down my cheeks

and i can feel my heart hum

like a cello in a church

and i can hear her name in my soul

like a weapon

like a wound

jean, jean, jean

and it stays there

rotting in my body

and i guess it's my fault

i never learned how to love 

without turning it into a poem

- _i don't know how to love you without unravelling_


	8. in sickness and in health (dying is another kind of vow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want y'all to know this one is. stupid and if you value good poetry at all you should skip to the next one.

hanahaki disease isn't real

i know this and still

i like to imagine life if it was

rather to say: 

i like to imagine i am dead

in this universe i look at her

with the same feeling in my chest

sharp and suffocating

and in this world

white clovers come bloody from my throat

and if she notices at all

she does not notice

that white clovers are her favorite

and in this universe i wither

and i wilt

and i die

surrounded by little red flowers

(they only look red)

and when i return to soil

dead and buried in the ground

will she get it then? 

will she look upon me

and see the weeds

growing from my chest 

(because i have never told her that white clover is a weed)

will she look at me 

and feel the sharp thorns of regret

smell the deep and bitter scent of longing

will she look upon me

and cough

- _in sickness and in health (dying is another kind of vow)_


	9. i don't get a happy ending (i don't get a funeral either)

my heart is holy in it's own way i know

after all

what is divinity but devotion

what is devotion

but a duty to bear

but a love to carry

but an ache in your back

and maybe i feel

she is a heart full 

of dead weight

like carrying a body

a funeral march that never ends

but there is no church in this love

and my heart is not consecrated

and yes

there is a body

but it is me

it is my fault

for i love her

like a sickness, consumed

like a sheet over a body

like a ghost

like all of me left

is a eulogy

repeating

i loved her i loved her i loved her

and i love her

still

like the feeling of being buried

and what a terrible labor

digging your own grave is

- _i don't get a happy ending (i don't get a funeral either)_


	10. let us have an ending (then let us start anew)

if you want to save this

set me free

let your voice become as silent

as in my poems

let the distance between us thrive

until you or the sky cannot recognize me

do not be tender

do not be as cruel

as to let the hope in me rot

let me be a bird

let me fly away from here (from you)

let me lay down

on linens that have never known

the salt of my tears

let me seek comfort

in a place untouched by you

in a place unburdened by my longing

(by my bleeding heart)

let me grow a garden by myself

let me see something i have loved

come to harvest

let me heal in a house by the sea

let me become

something other than in love with you

- _let us have an ending (then let us start anew)_

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to discuss my poems, follow my poetry tumblr at https://magdalenafemme.tumblr.com/


End file.
